


Oh, Baby! (The Avengers X Baby!Reader One-Shots) *REQUESTS NOW OPEN*

by LoverofAllThingsExplicit



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Domestic Fluff, Everybody Thinks You're Adorable, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, I May Have Been Drinking, Like Seriously What Have I Done, Like Super-Crack, More tags to be added, Multi, One-Shots, Super baby, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, What Have I Done, You Dear Reader Are TROUBLE, You Have Been Warned, accidental baby, accidental magic, all the fluffiness, super powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22329106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoverofAllThingsExplicit/pseuds/LoverofAllThingsExplicit
Summary: You, dear Reader, have been a resident of the Avengers Compound for quite a while, and have become quite good friends with Earth's Mightiest Heroes.One day, Loki and Dr. Strange have some sort of disagreement, and begin casting spells at each other. . . Unfortunately, you get caught in the crossfire, and are suddenly transformed into a baby. You are still the same you, and sure, you can talk, but you're just . . . stuck . . . in a tiny, (somewhat) helpless body.No one is quite sure just how to turn you back, so it looks like the Avengers are now your new babysitters for the foreseeable future.How hard can it be?
Relationships: Avengers Team & Reader, Bruce Banner & Reader, Clint Barton & Reader, Hulk & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, Loki (Marvel) & Reader, Natasha Romanov & Reader, Pepper Potts & Reader, Peter Parker & Reader, Pietro Maximoff & Reader, Sam Wilson & Reader, Stephen Strange & Reader, Steve Rogers & Reader, T'Challa & Reader, Thor & Reader, Tony Stark & Reader, Vision & Reader, Wanda Maximoff & Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 52





	1. Intro (How Did THIS Happen?!)

**Author's Note:**

> Requests are now open! Each Request can be read as a stand-alone chapter, unless otherwise indicated.
> 
> Here's what I need from you, dear readers:
> 
> Name (Optional)  
> Special Skill-set/Human/Mutation/Other-Worldly Power(s)  
> Designated Babysitter(s)  
> Story-line/Drabble (What do you want to happen?)
> 
> *SPECIAL NOTE: As the Reader is a baby, I WILL NOT write anything remotely sexual between Reader X Avengers. If, however, you wish to see other characters in a relationship of a domestic/romantic nature, have no qualms doing so. This is a GEN tag, so Please Keep it PG or PG-13, Folks~
> 
> Updates may be slow if I have a lot of requests, but I will plug away at them as soon as I can. Enjoy~

It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that anything and everything can happen when your friends are superheroes. ESPECIALLY if they’re supers. Today, however, seemed to be one of the few, blessedly calm days where everyone didn’t have to rush off to save the world, and you weren’t about to complain. You glanced down at your phone, noting the early time, before you headed for the Common Room. Maybe you’d raid the kitchen for some snacks and binge-watch your favorite show, or maybe you’d just play a videogame. Then again, you had that new book you wanted to start soon—

Your plans were cut off when you heard raised voices coming from your destination, and you shook your head in exasperation. “Oh, those two are always going at it,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. As much as you enjoyed Loki and Dr. Strange’s company, their constant bickering and constant one-upping each other, trying to prove who was the better sorcerer, was enough to drive a priest to cuss.

“Looks like it’s my turn to play the mediator again,” you muttered, letting out a deep sigh, wondering where everyone else disappeared to. So much for your plans to chill out and enjoy the peace. You stepped through the doorway amid the flare of magic and spell-casting. “Oh, c’mon guys, is this necess—”

A burst of Seidr collided with a blast of Stephen’s own brand of magic, before bouncing around the room, crashing into various objects and the walls before it finally hit you square in the chest, exploding in a kaleidoscope of colored smoke and glittery sparks. You gasped, stumbling from the slightly painful impact, and immediately began coughing as you accidently inhaled the combined magic.

“Oh, you two!” you wheezed, falling to your knees in an effort to catch your breath. You squeezed your eyes shut and clutched your sides, your body wracking with the harshness of your barking lungs. You felt dizzy and groaned as the world spun. After what seemed far longer than what it probably was, you could take a clean inhale of air, and sighed. “Seriously, what is wrong with you two?” you demanded, opening your eyes to glare up at them.

You opened your mouth to continue your tirade, when you noticed their horrified gazes. “What?” you asked, slightly apprehensive. It was then that you noticed your voice didn’t sound right, at all. Your clothing was extremely loose, and you seemed to be far closer to the ground than you remembered.

“Are you alright?” Stephen asked tentatively, taking a step forward. Loki’s eyes were wide, as if you had grown a second head. _‘Oh, I better not have,’_ you thought. You frowned at the two of them. “Why are you guys so much taller than before?” you asked, cocking your head. “And why does my voice sound funny? And why are my clothes so freakin’ baggy? Did you two idiots shrink me?!” you demanded, trying to roll up your overly-large sleeves.

“I’m afraid it’s much worse than that,” Loki informed me, coming to stand on the other side of me. You frowned, suddenly scared. “What happened?” you whispered in a nervous tone. Stephen pointed to the full-length mirror, and you stumbled over your clothes, leaving behind your pants, socks, and shoes. You shimmied out of your undergarments, somehow managing to keep your shirt on—barely—as you wobbled uncoordinated on bare feet until you caught your balance by slapping a tiny hand against the glass.

You stared in disbelief at the tiny image of yourself reflected back at you. “Wh-Whaa. . .?” you stuttered, unable to believe what you were seeing with your own eyes. Your eyes grew impossibly large for your tiny face and your bottom lip quivered of its own accord. “What did you do?!”

“It-it’s going to be alright, we’ll fix this,” Stephen said hurriedly, seeming to be on the verge of a panic attack.

“Nonono,” Loki warned, lifting his hands in a placating manner. “Don’t do it, don’t you dare—”

An ear-piercing shriek filled the air, followed by loud sobbing, and both men clapped their hands over their ears, wincing as their heads rang with your wailing. “Norns, this is your fault!” Loki shouted over you, glaring at the Sorcerer Supreme. Stephen returned the gesture, pointing an angry finger in the God’s direction. “Me?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It was both our magic that caused this, now we need to figure out how to reverse it!”

Loki opened his mouth to speak, before he was interrupted. “What is going on in here?” Steve demanded, striding into the room quickly to find the source of the wailing. The rest of the team was quick on his heels, curious to find out what the commotion was all about. His gaze immediately zeroed in on you, and he frowned. “Is—is that a . . .” he trailed off, and you began to cry harder, great heaving sobs wracking your body.

“Whose baby is that?” Tony demanded, pointing a finger at you. You glared at him through your tears, face red, tear-streaked, and nose runny. “It-its me,” you managed to squeak out. “Those two did it!” you pointed a tiny finger at the two magic wielders in question, and your sobbing renewed fully, and you scrubbed at your face in agitation.

“Oh . . . my . . .” Wanda breathed, her eyes wide in disbelief. “How did THIS happen?” she asked, swinging an accusatory gaze upon Loki and Stephen. The two of them cleared their throats. “A . . . heated discussion seemed to have gotten out of control,” Loki said smoothly, striding over to pluck you up into his arms and bouncing you lightly. You squeaked in surprise at the unexpected motion, and blinked at him in mild shock, your tears forgotten for the moment.

“This is entirely our fault,” Stephen added, conjuring a cloth to pat your face clean. You squirmed in Loki’s arms, still angry, but feeling exhausted from the excessive crying and adrenaline dissipating. “She, unfortunately, got caught in the crossfire, and we seemed to have turned her into a, well, a baby,” he explained.

You crossed your arms and huffed out a breath, glaring at everyone. “I am NOT a baby,” you grumbled in irritation. Tony strode forward, seemingly fascinated. “Yep, that’s her alright,” he agreed, nodding to herself. “Still cranky without her coffee.” He gave you a smirk, and you frowned at him. That seemed to be everyone’s que to crowd around you, everyone’s voices blending together as they asked questions, gently poked and prodded you, or cooed over your new, adorably cherub-like body.

“I wonder how this will affect you in the long term,” Bruce wondered, cocking his head at you in a curious manner. Wanda smiled, unable to help herself as she leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Personally, I think you are the cutest baby I’ve ever seen,” she gushed.

You squirmed in Loki’s arms once more, and he stepped back from everyone a few paces, giving you a little room to breathe, and you let out a deep sigh. “So, You guys managed to do the impossible, and turned me into a talking baby . . . just how long am I gonna be like this until it wears off?” you asked curiously, wanting this day to be over already, and it wasn’t even 8 a.m. yet.

Loki and Stephen hesitated for a moment, sharing a glance before Loki unceremoniously placed you in Bucky's arms and backed away quickly. “We . . . don’t know,” he admitted, raising his hands slowly to cover his ears.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked in confusion, cocking a brow as he watched Stephen repeating Loki’s actions. Your deafening screams answered his question, practically reverberating through everyone’s skulls. Echoing groans filled the room as your tears renewed themselves once more.

“Geez, kid’s got a set of lungs,” Tony shouted, barely able to hear his own thoughts over your excessive wailing.

“Shh, shh, it’s gonna be alright, kiddo,” Bucky tried to soothe you, bouncing you gently on his metal arm as his flesh hand patted your back softly. You hiccupped through your tears. “H-how am I s’posed to work?” you wailed, unable to stop yourself as you rubbed your face into his chest, spreading tears and snot across his tee.

Bucky’s nose wrinkled in disgust, before you were suddenly plucked from his arms and cradled against Clint’s chest. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, wiping your face with a clean rag from his pocket. “It’ll be alright, we’ll look after you. Don’t worry.”

“But-but I don’t wanna be a baby,” you cried, scrubbing at your eyes in frustration. Clint’s lips twitched, fighting the urge to press kisses over your cherub cheeks like Wanda had. “I’m sure between everyone here we’ll figure something out to turn you back to normal.”

Your sobs slowed down after a moment, reduced to quiet hiccups and whimpers. The team let out a collective sigh of relief, removing their hands from their ears. “But what about you guys?” you asked softly, feeling drained as you scrubbed at your eyes once more. “You’re all heroes, you can’t just all drop everything to take care of me. What if the world needs you?”

Peter stepped forward, scratching the back of his head. “Well, I think it’s a safe assumption here that we all care about you,” he said. Pietro nodded his head quickly. “Da, you are our friend, and we always look after our friends.” The team gave various murmurs of agreement.

You frowned. “But what do we do about this?” you asked, pointing at yourself. “We can all take turns looking after you,” Steve decided. “I’m sure if the roles were reversed with any of us, you’d take care of us. Let us do this for you.”

You chewed on your lip, glancing around at everyone skeptically. “You’re sure about this?” you asked, twisting your fingers in your oversized shirt.

Natasha smirked, and brushed a few wispy baby hairs off your forehead. “Of course, _golubushka,”_ she soothed. “Besides, you know I’ve been practically dying to play dress-up with you for ages now . . . this just gives me an excuse to dress you up in the cutes baby clothes out there, on Tony’s dime, of course,” she winked.

Tony flapped a hand at me. “Whatever you need, kiddo,” he assured. “Just don’t expect me to change your diapers.”

You blushed, glaring at the man. “If I can walk and talk, I’m pretty sure I know I can operate a toilet . . . jerk,” you mumbled under your breath.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” Sam said, shooting me a little smile. “I’m sure I’ve got some old things of my nieces and nephews lying around in storage somewhere; you can use them if you want.”

“I must confess, babies are a curiosity for me,” Vision spoke up, cocking his head as if fascinated with you. “This may be a rare opportunity to learn and interact with a child, however odd the circumstances are.”

You tapped your chin as you thought, your nose scrunching up before you gave a tentative nod. “Okay, I guess,” you shrugged.

Everyone gave a collective sigh, glad that crisis seemed to have been diverted, for the time being. “It’s agreed then, we’ll all take turns looking after you until we find a way to reverse this whole, baby-thing,” Steve announce, clapping his hands together once.

You nodded your head once, silent for a moment. “So . . .” you asked, looking around at everyone as a mischievous smirk spread across your deceptively innocent features. “Who’s my first babysitter?” If you took a bit of pleasure in their nervous shudders, who were you to deny it?


	2. HULK PLAY NOW!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playtime doesn't turn out quite the way you thought it would . . .

**Name: Bubbles**

**Mutation: Can create spherical, translucent shields that are nearly indestructible, yet elastic like a rubber bouncy-ball; shields can contain pockets of air, allowing Bubbles to fly/bounce/dive where it would be impossible to breathe (Alpha Level)**

**Babysitters: Hulk/Bruce Banner**

**Plot: Playtime in the Gym doesn’t go exactly as planned . . .**

You huffed out a short breath, kicking your feet back and forth as you sat on the table adjacent from Bruce as he went over various readings on the portable screen in front of him. “Oh, Bruuuuucie~” you called in a sing-song voice. Bruce jumped, startled, as he glanced up at you, glasses perched on the end of his nose before his gaze returned to the algorithms in front of him. “Yes, Bubbles?” he asked distractedly.

“Are you almost done _yet_?” you whined slightly, crossing your tiny arms in front of you. “I’m so bored! We’ve been here for hours already! And I’m hungry! And I wanna play!”

Bruce cleared his throat, tapping a few codes into the screen he held. “Calm down Bubbles, I only started this at 8,” he soothed, fingers flying faster as he worked. He paused when you didn’t reply, and he looked up slowly to see your lip quivering in a pout.

“It’s half-past noon,” you whispered softly, casting our gaze down at your feet. With a start, Bruce turned to the small clock on the corner of his desk, and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh. “I’ sorry, kiddo,” he said sincerely. “I guess I just got caught up in this—” he gestured to the screen in front of him. “—and just kind of zoned out there for a while.”

You gave a half-hearted shrug, sniffling, and Bruce frowned, setting down the device and striding over to crouch in front of you. “Tell you what, this can wait until later; how about we grab something to eat, then we’ll do anything you want to do for the rest of the day, how’s that sound?”

You peeked up at him through your lashes, a small smile lighting up your face. “Really?” you squealed. Bruce winced slightly at the high pitch but nodded his head. “Of course; so long as it’s nothing dangerous . . . don’t need anything happening to our resident baby, do we?”

You glared at him, your nose wrinkling adorably. “I’m not a baby,” you huffed. Bruce chuckled, and scooped you up into his arms, bouncing you lightly as he headed for the door. “Of course, you’re not; you’re a tiny version of your adult self stuck in the body of an 18-month old,” he teased lightly. “C’mon, I’ll make us some sandwiches. I think there’s still some of those juice pouches Tony stocked up on when Peter was here last weekend.”

“Eww . . . Capri Sun is disgusting!” you stuck your tongue out in distaste. “Do you even know what’s in that stuff?”

Bruce let out a light laugh as he called for FRIDAY to turn off the lights and lock the lab. “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

***

After a light lunch, a quick change of clothes (Bruce cut up your sandwich into such tiny pieces it was basically crumbs with little globs of jelly and peanut butter smeared all over the plate and you ended up wearing mostly on your pretty dress Natasha found for you from a specialty store) and a potty break (Bruce had to track down Wanda to run you to a bathroom to help you since you couldn’t quite reach the potty stool by yourself, and that was just pushing the limit for the easily flustered doctor; You might be stuck as a baby, but you were his friend, and he really didn’t want to watch you pee, it just seemed too awkward), you raced ahead of Bruce to your destination. Bruce scratched the back of his head, nearly dislodging the glasses perched on top of his head.

“You sure you want to play in here?” he asked for the third time. “We didn’t bring any toys or books for you to use.”

You turned to smirk at him, rubbing your little palms together. “That’s cuz I don’t wanna play with toys,” you said cheerfully. You scrunched your eyes up tightly, and concentrated. A small pop echoed in the vast room, and a translucent bubble formed around you. You giggled, and held your hands out to the sides, slowly rocking back and forth until your formed what was effectively a hamster wheel.

Bruce’s eyes widened as he watched you slowly roll around the room, gaining speed as you moved. Your body was held suspended inside the bubble, preventing you from jarring more than a slight shift, as you bumped into the walls. “Uh, Bubbles? Are-are you sure you should be doing this?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes at him as you rolled in a circle around him. “What’s the worst that’s gonna happen Bruce?” you called. “Besides, this is the safest way for me to play! I’m literally in a bubble to protect me from the world~” With that, you preceded to bounce slightly, slowly increasing the strength and distance of your actions as you gained momentum.

“But what if you get hurt?” Bruce asked in a slightly strangled voice, visions of you breaking a limb or worse flashing through his mind. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with an accident. He felt the Big Guy stirring in the back of his mind, grumbling his worry for the tiny human.

“C’mon Brucie, play with me~” you called in a sing-song voice, grinning at him as you bounced off the west wall and up to the ceiling, arching high until you bounced in place in front of him, coming up level to his face with each jump. “Please?” you pouted.

Warring with himself for a moment, Bruce let out a long sigh before he cracked a small smile. “Alright, I’ll play. What game?” he asked you, hands coming to rest on either side of your bubble, holding you in place for a moment.

You let out a peal of laughter and opened your mouth to speak when a small explosion rocked the gym and knocked you both into the air. You let out a startled shriek, quickly forcing your shield to encompass Bruce too as you both flew forward twenty feet.

You grunted when your shield bounced off the far wall, spinning wildly until it screeched to a stop with an unceremonious _‘pop!’_ You fell on your butt and gave a slight grunt of pain (perhaps you should have worn a diaper like Tony joked; extra padding for your sore butt sounded pretty good right now) and blinked in shock and confusion. “Bruce? What happened?” you asked, your voice high and squeaky with fear.

Bruce groaned from where he crashed face first onto the ground and sat up slowly. “FRIDAY, what the hel-heck just happened?” he called, barely catching his language in time. What? There’s a baby in the room!

“It appears there was a malfunction with the practice bots, and their core safety settings have been disabled,” the Irish lilt of the AI rang through the gym as one of the robots in question stepped through a plume of smoke. “I can’t hack into the suits to turn it off! It appears I’ve been locked out! I’m currently working to override the hackers.”

Your eyes grew round, and tears welled up when the bad bot raised an arm, power whirring to life as it readied to fire a second round. You let out a slight squeak when Bruce grabbed you by the back or your overalls and yanked you out of harm’s way, clutching you close to his chest as he ran for the exit. “FRIDAY call the rest of the team and get them down here ASAP!” he yelled, breathing in and out and slowly as he could while trying to escape.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen for a bit,” FRIDAY answered quickly. “A number of armed mercenaries have attempted to storm the compound. All other members are currently engaged in a firefight with the intruders. Looks like you’re on your own for a bit.”

“Oh, that’s just great!” Bruce grumbled, glancing down at you when you latched onto his shirt, whimpering as another blast landed not four feet from your right. “It’ll be alright, we’ll get out of here, don’t worry,” Bruce tried to soothe you.

“Look out!” you shouted as another robot landed in front of you, arms raised and charged. You formed a bubble around the two of you just as it fired a round off at the two of you, the force sending the both of you flying backwards in a ping-pong motion across the room. You grunted as you lost concentration, and the shield dissipated.

You and Bruce landed in a heap, Bruce on his back while you were held in a loose grip on his chest. You sat up slowly, poking Bruce’s cheek as he lay unconscious. “Bruce?” you whispered, sniffling as tears welled up in your eyes. “Brucie, wake up!” a loud whir sounded behind you, and you gasped, scrambling off of Bruce and crouching next to him in fear. A total of seen robots surrounded you, reminding you of the Ultron incident years ago.

You were full-on sobbing now, frightened out of your mind. They all raised their arms, charging for another blast. Terrified, you screamed, loud and long, and hid your face behind your hands, unable to face death as it came for you.

Suddenly, a loud roar broke through all other sound, and you clapped your hands over your ears, gritting your teeth as your head rang as it echoed. The ground shook, and you gingerly lifted your head up to see what was happening.

The first thing that filled your vision was the back of a large, green calf. Your gaze traveled up, and up, and up until you stared in awe at the back of the Hulk’s purple head. His body shuddered with deep, heaving pants, hands curling into tight fists at his side as he shifted his stance to block you from view. He growled low in his throat, before raising a fist. “HULK PLAY NOW!” he roared, smashing a meaty fist through the bots with ease.

You gave a squeak as the bots crashed into walls, parts flying everywhere as they broke off. You reformed another shield around you, and bounced in place, gaining more power the higher you went. You glared at one bot attempting to discharge another blast and gave a little grunt as you jumped towards it, leaving dents in the floor in your wake.

“Stupid, evil robots!” you shrieked, landing on the robot with a solid crunch of metal caught between the ground and your bubble. “Ha!” you cheered, bouncing repeatedly for a moment before springing for another. Meanwhile, Hulk did what he does best: smashed, pummeled, crushed, and ripped apart the machines as they tried to amass and surge upon him.

Within moments, there was nothing left of the practice bots but for piles of debris scattered across the damaged gym. “NO HURT HULK’S BABY!” he roared, stomping on one last, semi-functioning robot. You panted for breath, glancing around at the metal carnage before you cheered. “Alright, you did it, Hulk!” you bounced over to him when he turned to grin at you, a wide, toothy expression that would have terrified a normal person, if, y’know, you were normal.

With one last bounce, you leaped into his arms; Hulk caught your shield easily, holding you aloft to his face as he let out a pleased rumble. “HULK SAVE BABY BUBBLES!” he stated, thumping his chest with one fist. You giggled, and allowed the shield to ‘pop,’ landing on your butt in the palm of Hulk’s other hand. “Thanks, Big Guy,” you smiled widely, clutching onto his fingers as he held you close to his chest.

Suddenly, the doors on the far end slammed open, and the rest of the team burst through. “Are you alright?” Steve called, shield in one hand. He, along with the rest of the team, were covered in various cuts and bruises, all superficial, fortunately.

He skidded to a stop as he heard your laughter, and felt fear punch him in the gut at the sight of the destruction before him, and the Hulk holding you like a proud papa in his hand. He worried for a brief moment that you were hurt, or in serious danger. You and the Hulk, however, seemed to be in perfect health, a fact that eased the worry constricting his chest. “What the heck happened in here?” Natasha asked slowly, her gaze wide as she approached the Hulk slowly.

“Looks like a war zone,” Tony commented, retracting his Iron Man suit as he noted the smoldering piles of metal and destroyed gym in general. “You alright there, Bubbles?” he asked warily, glancing between you and the Hulk. You grinned and waved at the others from your perch, giggling. “I’m okay,” you called, shooting the Hulk a little wink. “We were just playing a game.”

The Hulk gave a chuckle, brushing a large finger as delicately as possible over your messy baby curls. The rest of the team slowly relaxed, seeing that the Hulk wasn’t about to hurt you. “And what sort of game was that, kiddo?” Steve asked, noting the crater-like dents in the ground. “Search and destroy?”

Hulk let out a slight growl, pride evident as he dropped to his rear end, the ground shaking lightly as he landed. He held you aloft in his hand, as if showing off a trophy. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, holding on tightly onto one of his fingers so you didn’t fall.

“HULK PLAY ‘SAVE HULK’S BABY BUBBLES.’ I WON,” He said smugly. You turned to grin at him. “Wanna play again?” you asked innocently.

“NO!” the rest of the team shouted.


	3. Child Psychology Day--Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter needs your help for an assignment for class, but Tony won't allow it.  
> Part One of Two~!

Name: Rosie

Human Teenager

Babysitters: Peter Parker (Spiderman)

Plot: Peter forgot to get a child for an upcoming assignment, and needs your help. But, there may be an Iron Man-shaped roadblock in the way . . .

You were one of Peter’s best friends growing up, practically brother and sister, and was over at his place more often than not; it was only natural you were the first one to find out his secret identity, having rummaged through his closet looking for your favorite hoodie he "borrowed," and instead, found his original suit wadded up in the furthest corner of the closet just as he walked in. You had to admit, watching him see his life flash before his eyes as you held up the suit with a cocked brow was one of your fondest memories of your friendship.

After practically begging you on his knees not to tell anyone, you started helping him out with his new crime-fighting vigilantism by listening to the police scanners you “misplaced,” from your dad’s office, making excuses to both your dad and his Aunt May about “studying” at the library. You even started keeping an extra stock of his webbing at your place two floors down. Sometimes, you’d go out with him looking for trouble, and usually acted as the distraction while Peter snuck up on a thief or other unpleasant criminal on the street.

When Peter earned his scholarship with Mr. Stark, you had wanted to be a part of it, feeling like your best friend might leave you behind for bigger and better things. When no one was paying attention, you broke into the trunk of Happy’s car with a pair of lockpicks you bought off a shady-looking guy on a dare and settled in as comfortably as you could. You only had to wait a few moments before you could hear Peter chattering away at Happy , and traveled to the compound with none the wiser . . . only to get caught shortly after you’d arrived because your bladder was about to give, and Wanda found you looking for the bathroom. You’d managed to make it through the first few corridors and rooms within the compound undetected until she’d cleared her throat, arms crossed and sharp gaze trained on you.

Fortunately, she realized you were a friend of Peter’s after scanning your mind for potential threats, and she led you to where he was training with the rest of the Avengers in the gym. Mr. Stark tried to scold you, but he couldn’t really hide his smirk with how clever you’d been to get this far and offered you a scholarship alongside Peter, whom was mortified that you’d gone to such lengths to get there.

From that day after, you’d come to the compound with Peter every other weekend and hang out with the other Avengers, learning self-defense from Nat, Steve and Bucky, tech stuff from Tony and Bruce, debating your favorite works by Shakespeare with Loki, teaching Thor popular music (listening to him singing “Hollaback Girl” became an instant internet sensation, and you still laughed until you cried every time you watched it and the remixes that spawned afterward), learning to cook from Wanda and Vision (whom needed the lessons just as much as you did), or just vegging out for a team movie night. Yeah, you’d become integrated into the team, just as Peter had, only, more behind-the-scenes, which you didn’t mind.

Your dad didn’t mind that you were gone on the weekends, as he was constantly going away on business trips, and didn’t have to shell out the extra cash for someone to look in on you, or send you off to Aunt May’s house (You always addressed her as Aunt May, she wouldn’t have you call her anything else). Though he was extremely concerned when he received a phone call from Tony that you’d been “accidentally exposed to some experimental chemicals, and needed to be monitored in a quarantined apartment at his private facility in case of the slim chance of an adverse side-effect,” as was the cover story you’d concocted, he was relieved that you’d still be able to work on schoolwork and be in the safest place possible, even if he couldn’t see you. He sent little care packages ad sweet notes about missing you with Peter every weekend since, so you wouldn’t feel too homesick, but otherwise didn’t try to storm the castle to get to his baby . . . though if he found out the truth, that’d be quite literally.

“Hey, Rosie!” Peter called, skidding to a stop as he ran through the elevator doors. You glanced up from where you were currently sprawled on your belly on the floor, scattered coloring books and crayons laying within reach.

“Sup, Peter?” you greeted, smiling at your friend. “Need my classwork for tomorrow? I had Wanda leave on the table this morning when I got done with it.” You nodded your head at the coffee table a few feet away from you. Everything was typed, given that anything you tried to write was nearly illegible, what with your tiny hands having a hard time grasping onto any writing apparatus’.

Glancing over at the table, Peter blinked, and nodded his head. “Uh, yeah, okay,” he said a little distractedly. “Listen, Rosie, I need to ask you a big, big favor.” You cocked a brow, and rolled over onto your back, groaning. “Whatever it is, I’m not providing an alibi again,” you stated. “Last time, I got put in time-out.”

“How is that so bad?” Peter asked, peering down at you. You pouted and crossed your arms. “Cause Thor stuck me on top of the counter for that stupid glitter incident, and wouldn’t let me down until I told him where I hid the rest of it.”

Peter cracked up laughing at that. “Oh, man, Thor charging into battle with a bright, sparkly hammer was the funniest thing I’d ever seen!”

You stuck your tongue out at him but couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped you. “But seriously, what is it?” you asked, sitting up.

Peter cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “So, I kinda forgot that Friday is Child Psychology Day,” he said, scratching the back of his head. You shrugged. “So?” you prompted. “Did you forget to take notes or something? You know I don’t have that class this year, I have nothing that can help you.”

“Well . . . I’m supposed to bring in a kid so we can get an understanding of what it’s like to have full responsibility over a child between the ages of 2 months and 12 years old for a full school day, and how you interact in a public setting under our care.” Peter let out a nervous laugh. “Aaaand I maaaay have forgotten to get a kid . . . I’ve got to find one and have parental consent turned in by Wednesday, or I’m kinda screwed out of thirty-five percent of the final grade.”

You blinked once. Twice. Then you let out a long peal of laughter. “Oh, this is hilarious,” you managed to get out between fits of giggles. “You want me to show up to school, pretend to be a normal baby, and help you get a good grade?”

“Um . . . yes?” Peter asked in a slightly strangled voice. “Please, I can’t show up without a kid, I’ll barely pass the class! And besides, it’s basically a free day because I’ll have you with me, so its not like we’ll be going to our normal classes, we’d be hanging out in the gym or the library doing, y’know, kid stuff. Pleeeeeeeease?”

You tapped your chin as you considered. “What do I get out of it?” you asked slyly, grinning impishly. Peter gave a slight scoff, glancing around the room as he scrambled for a good incentive. “I’ll, um . . . it’ll give you a chance to get out of the compound for a few hours,” he suggested. “And I’ll . . . I’ll take you to see that new movie you’d been bugging me about for the last few months!”

You let out a little hum as you thought about it, before glancing at him with a smirk. “Throw in some of Aunt May’s chocolate cherry cheesecake bites, and you got a deal~”

Peter gave a fist-pump, cheering his good fortune, before he frowned. “Wait . . . I’ve gotta ask Mr. Stark, first,” he remembered.

You scoffed, standing up and toddling over to Peter, tugging on his pant-leg. “What for? I can make my own decisions,” you reminded him.

“Yeeeeah . . .” Peter scratched the back of his head nervously, trying to find the words that wouldn’t insult you. “You’re a baby, though; that’s the whole point of me wanting to use you for Psych Day. Technically, Mr. Stark could say no, and he’d have final say about it.”

“I have final say over what?” Tony asked as he strode through the room. Peter jumped and began to stutter, trying to come up with a solid answer. You huffed, rolling your eyes, before you tugged on Peter’s pants more insistently. “Pick me up, please,” you stated, a little annoyed.

Peter blinked, and carefully lifted you into his arms, holding you against his chest. “Um, well, I’ve got this big assignment on Friday, and I kinda need your consent before Wednesday.”

Tony crossed his arms, instantly going into _‘dad’_ mode. “And what exactly do you need my consent for? Your aunt is your guardian, why not have her sign whatever it is?”

Peter chuckled nervously, shifting you in his arms. “Uh, w-well, you see, it’s—”

You groaned, face-palming before you broke in. “Peter needs a baby for Child Psych Day on Friday, and forgot to find one in time. He wants to use me, or he’ll fail the class.” You both gave him your biggest, most hopeful expressions, eyes wide and beseeching. “Can I go? Pleeeeeeease?”

“Absolutely not,” Tony said immediately, giving us a stern glare. “Do you know how many things could go wrong? If somebody finds out you’re not a normal kid, or worse, assumes you’re _my_ kid, there could be some pretty serious consequences. You’d both be in big trouble, and if the press or SHIELD gets wind of this, or Hydra, or any other superpower out there . . .” he trailed off, not bothering to finish the thought.

“But it’s just one day—”

“We’ll be super careful—”

You and Peter spoke over each other, trying to argue your case. “No,” Tony said firmly. “There’s too many risk factors here, guys. You’re not going to Baby Day—” he pointed his finger at you, then at Peter. “And you should have been better prepared. This is your failure to plan, and I’m not helping you out of this one.” Peter hung his head, letting out a deep sigh, knowing he was right.

“But Mr. Stark, _please!_ ” you begged. “I’m starting to go nuts cooped up in the compound 24/7, and I wanna help Peter pass his class! I promise, I’ll pretend to be a normal baby, and Peter won’t let me out of his sight. Besides, I’m sure you could come up with some sort of security system to have in place in case of an emergency,” you tried to reason.

“Absolutely not, Rosie,” Tony shook his head in rejection. “This is not happening, and that’s _final._ ”

You blinked once, slowly, before your eyes began to mist up and your bottom lip quivered. Tony immediately backed up, putting his hands up in defense. “Oh no, don’t start that!” Tony said quickly, eyes widening in mild panic when you began to sniffle. “No, you’re not going to change my mind . . . Rosie, don’t you dare—”

Your ear-piercing wails drowned out whatever he was going to say next. Peter, unfortunately, may have lost hearing in his left ear for the next three hours as a result.

***

“I still can’t believe you got Mr. Stark to agree to this!” Peter whispered to you as he held your hand, a backpack and diaper bag slung over his opposite shoulder. You grinned up at him as you headed for the entrance of the school Friday morning.

“Never underestimate my capabilities,” you said smugly. Peter gave a snort, shaking his head, before he turned to glance over at your escorts for the day. “You ready for this, Miss Natasha? Mr. Barton?” he asked, slightly nervous.

Natasha slipped the sunglasses she wore to the top of her head gracefully, a slow, lazy smile crossing her features. “Oh, trust me, we’ll be fine,” she told him, giving you both a little wink. “This is a walk in the park.”

Clint grunted in response, scanning the school. “We’ll keep surveillance on the outside,” he reminded you both. “Just keep that earpiece in, Peter. Rosie . . .” you glanced up at him, eyes wide with innocence that definitely didn’t suit your mischievous nature. “Don’t take off the necklace, got it?”

You tapped the hidden tracker that hung around your neck, and nodded your head. “No probs, Birdie,” you said cheekily, grinning widely at his eyeroll. “We’ll be fine,” Peter assured. “We’ll meet you out front after classes let out for the day.”

“See you then,” Natasha nodded, and strolled off with Clint, arm-in-arm, keeping an eye on the various points that could easily be used to breach the school if they needed to get in quickly.

You both watched them leave for a moment, before Peter lifted you into his arms and carried you so as not to lose you amongst the throngs of students as they all made their way inside. “Seriously, remind me again how you got Tony Stark to agree to this?” he whispered in your ear.

“You giggled before you hid your face near his ear, appearing as a shy little baby. “Well, between the serious sob-fest on Sunday and chatting with Pepper, Miss Nat and Mr. Barton, I managed to get Mr. Stark to see things my way.”

“You’re devious,” Peter laughed, shaking his head. “Ready for this?” You clapped your hands in excitement. “Let’s see what kind of fun we can get up to~!”


	4. Daddy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a walk through Central Park . . . right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pairing I don't see very often, though this is a G-Setting, so nothing explicit~

**Name: Dorothy (Dot/Dottie)**

**Feral Mutant: has Feline ears, eyes, and tail, along with lethally sharp claws. Extremely agile and quick reflexes, has excellent skills in stealth (Beta Level)**

**Babysitters: Steve Rogers (Captain America) & Sam Wilson (Falcon)**

**Plot: Steve and Sam take Reader out for a stroll in Central Park.**

“Dot, hold still! Okay . . .” Steve muttered, adjusting your coat securely around you as you squirmed in place. “Hat, coat, gloves, boots—”

“Check, check, check and check,” Sam piped up, smirking down at you as you scowled up at him. “You look adorable, Dottie,” he chuckled, pulling his own cap over his head. “Like a puffed-up marshmallow with a tail and ears.”

You growled in your throat, your ears pinning back and your eyes becoming slits as you nipped at Steve’s fingers as he adjusted the collar of your coat. “Ow! Dorothy, we don’t bite,” Steve said sternly, shaking his fingers lightly to soothe the sting as he gave you “The Stare of Justice,” as you dubbed it.

“I don’t need to wear all this,” you grumbled. “I look stupid.” You let out a huff and tried to cross your arms, but it was hard to move with the number of layers you wore. “Besides, I run warmer than most, can’t I just—”

“Dottie, if you wanna pass as a normal baby, you need the layers,” Sam cut you off, crossing his arms. “Besides, do we really want CPS called on you? That’s an explanation they won’t believe.”

You let out a deep sigh, rolling your eyes. “Know that I am doing this with the utmost reluctance,” you finally said, holding up your arms. “Let’s go then.”

Steve gave you a slight smile. “It’s just a walk through Central Park, Dot,” he soothed, lifting you to carefully secure you in the papoose around his chest, adjusting you so your tail wasn’t pinched in between you and his chest. “A few hours of fresh air will do you some good.”

You wrinkled your nose, turning your head to look up at him as you entered the elevator. “Yeah . . . what could possibly go wrong with a Feral Mutant-turned-baby, Captain America, and the Falcon in Central Park?” you asked sarcastically. Sam coughed a little laugh, ignoring the eyeroll Steve gave you both. “We’ll be fine, besides, hardly anyone recognizes me out of uniform,” Steve soothed.

You gave a dramatic sigh and settled in as comfortably as you could. “Yeah, but people are gonna wanna pinch my cheeks or comment about the adorable baby,” you muttered. Steve reached up to scratch lightly at one of your ears poking out the top of your hat, and you immediately felt calmer, a slight purr escaping you.

“Don’t worry Dottie,” Sam soothed, leading the way out of the elevator. “We won’t let anyone pinch your chubby little cheeks.” He snickered when you gave a light hiss at him. “Shut up, Sam,” you muttered.

***

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, grudgingly admitting to yourself that the fresh air and sunshine felt nice, despite the cold weather. “See, isn’t this nice?” Steve coaxed, reaching up to pat your belly gently through the papoose. You cracked an eye to turn your head and peek up at him. “I guess so,” you mumbled, not wanting to be overheard by passersby.

Sam inched closer to avoid pedestrians, hands shoved into his pockets. “It’s a beautiful day,” he agreed, giving you a smile. “Sun’s shining, and the lake is pretty, all frozen over, and at least the sidewalks are clear of snow.”

You opened your mouth to speak but froze when you heard someone coo. “Oh, what an adorable baby,” an older woman gushed, grinning at you. “How old is she?” she asked, looking up at Steve. Steve cleared his throat, unsure how to answer for a moment. “She’s about 18 months now,” He said, smiling genially at the woman. Her wrinkled faze broke into a wide grin as she turned her attention back to you. You squirmed a little in your papoose, wishing you could hide.

You were always a bit self-conscious of your physical mutations, used to hiding in the dark and sneaking around in shadows, stealing in order to survive. It was only luck that Steve happened to stumble upon you during a mission; you were in the process of breaking into a high-security vault that you later found out belonged to a high-profile Hydra agent.

He and Natasha chased you down, and instead of turning you over to the authorities, offered you a chance to join them, and use your skills to help others. You were barely a teenager then, having lost track of your age as the years spent of the street didn’t really give you ample opportunity to check the dates, and as the months passed, you became more comfortable around your fellow Avengers, especially Steve and Sam. Steve always had a soft spot for you, taking you under his wing. He saw himself in you: a scrawny little thing that wasn’t afraid to take on the world. Sam just happened to share your twisted sense of humor, and he gave really good ear scratches, having always been more of a cat person. The fact that they were a couple meant that it wasn’t uncommon for the two of them to be together, so it was usually the three of you, and Bucky, when he wasn’t away on a mission.

“What a cutie,” the old woman gushed. “And an adorable hat! I’ve never seen a baby wearing little kitty ears!”

Sam chuckled. “yeah, she wouldn’t leave without them,” he joked. The woman smiled and patted his shoulder. “It’s so nice to see two young men enjoying the fresh air with their daughter.” You, Sam and Steve froze, Sam letting out a strangled noise. “Oh no, we’re not-uh, that is, she’s not-“ Steve struggled for words, face flushing an impressive shade of red.

You couldn’t help yourself and let out a peel of laughter, and the woman cooed once more. Suddenly, an idea struck you. You just couldn’t help it. “Daddy!” you cried, turning your head to look up at Steve. “Daddy!”

Sam snorted, trying to contain himself. “Dottie,” he tried to reprimand, lips twitching in amusement. You gave him the most innocent grin you could muster, and pointed at him. “Papa! Papa!”

The old woman gave a little chuckle. “Well, she certainly knows her parents,” she mused, smiling once more at the three of you. “You and your family have a wonderful day, now!” With that, she continued on her way, oblivious to Sam and Steve’s protests.

You grinned, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye. “So, where next, Daddy?” you asked innocently, turning your head up slightly to see Steve’s red face.

Sam and Steve glared at you, the two men thoroughly embarrassed. “Brat,” Sam muttered, shaking his head. You snorted, trying to shrug through your oversized coat. “Hey, if I gotta be a baby in public, I’m gonna milk it for all it’s worth,” you snickered.

Steve sighed, shaking his head. “No one repeats this exchange to anyone,” he ordered. “Especially Stark.”

You grinned. “And why shouldn’t I?” you asked as you all headed for a vendor selling hot chocolate. Steve gave you a mild look. “Please?” he asked grudgingly. You rolled your eyes. “No worries, Steve, your secret’s safe with me,” you promised.

Sam let out a slight laugh. “You gotta admit, it’s a little funny,” he mused, stepping up to order. The vendor was quick to divvy out the steaming drinks and gave you a little smile. “Want a small cup for your little one?” he asked.

Steve face-palmed as Sam tried to explain. “Oh, she’s not—”

“Papa! Papa! Choky!” you cried, pointing at the drinks and playing up the baby-talk with a grin. Sam groaned, shaking his head in defeat. “Yes, please,” he muttered, handing over the cash.

You grinned in triumph, reaching for the drink as Sam handed Steve his and yours. “Okay . . . this may not have been a good idea,” Sam muttered to Steve. Steve held your drink as you carefully sipped the hot liquid, watching you carefully so you didn’t scald yourself. “Personally, I find this whole thing hilarious,” you commented out of ear-shot of the vendor. “Besides, it was your guys’ idea to take me out for the day. People are gonna assume I’m out with my parents.”

“Y’know, it’s not so bad,” Steve suggested, nudging Sam a little. “We can always say this is practice.”

Sam gave Steve a slightly sappy smile, and you gave a snort. “Does that mean I’m the honorary big sister for your non-existent children?” you asked with a slight grin.

Steve shared a look with Sam before he glanced down at you, heaving a sigh. “Well . . .” he trailed off, not sure where to start.

“Dorothy,” Sam started, and you turned your head to face him, realizing that if he used your real name and not the nicknames you’d used most of your life, it was serious. “We actually wanted to ask you about that,” he said, smiling softly.

“What . . . did I take it too far with the ‘Daddy’ thing? I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” you said quickly, not wanting to upset your friends. Sam held up his free hand, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s cool,” he soothed. “Actually, Steve and I had been discussing for the last several weeks about you. You’re an orphan, right?” he asked, not unkindly.

You glanced down at your feet sticking out the bottom of the papoose and kicked them lightly, nodding your head. “yeah,” you said softly. Your real parents had dumped you at an orphanage when they realized that you were a mutant, and you hadn’t had contact with them since. You were just a small child then, and hated every moment at the orphanage where everyone deemed you a freak, until you ran away.

“What if you weren’t?” Steve asked, and you glanced up at him, frowning. “Whaddya mean?” you asked. “Did you find my folks? Cuz they didn’t want me then, what makes you think they’d want me now? No one wanted me.”

Steve smiled at you and threw away the empty Styrofoam cups. He took you out of the papoose, holding you at arm’s length. “Actually, Sam and I were thinking . . . if you wanted, that is . . .” he started, before he cleared his throat. “Dottie, would you like to be adopted?”

You blinked, frowning. “But who would wanna adopt me?” you asked curiously. Sam let out a laugh. “Us, silly,” he clarified, leaning against Steve’s shoulder lightly. “Me’n Steve wanna adopt you, if you’re okay with that, that is,” he amended.

You froze, shock rushing through you, along with a fuzzy warmth that spread inside your chest at the thought. “Y-You mean it?” you squeaked, tears forming. “You’re not just joking? Because if you are, I’m gonna bite you,” you warned.

Steve let out a laugh, and held you close, brushing a gentle hand over one of your ears as it twitched. “Yeah, we’re serious,” he whispered. “We love you, Kiddo, and we want to be someone you can rely on when you need us, or don’t need us, because that’s what parents do. What true parents should do.”

“Although . . . if it’s not something you want, then we won’t,” Sam said quickly. “e can pretend this whole conversation never happened.”

You scrubbed at your face, letting out a watery chuckle. “No, no,” you let out after a moment. “I do, I’d like that, a lot, actually. It’d be nice to have parents. Yeah, I wanna be adopted, and tell people that I’ve got two dads that chose to have me because they wanted me,” you gushed, talking a million miles an hour.

Sam and Steve let out laughs, and they both hugged you between the two of them. “Then it’s settled. As soon as we get back to the Tower, we’ll ask Stark to see about getting the right papers drawn up, so we an officially call you Dorothy Rogers-Wilson,” Steve decided.

You smiled big, hugging the two of them. It was a peaceful, heartfelt moment between the three of you, until you let out a snicker. “Does that mean I can still call you Daddy?”

Sam and Steve let out twin groans of annoyance. “I don’t think that’s gonna go away anytime soon,” Sam stated, sharing a look with his boyfriend.

You grinned mischievously. “Once everybody gets wind of this? Not a chance.”


	5. The Flu - PART ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the only two people on Planet Earth even remotely familiar with Asgardian Biology, Thor & Loki must look after you when you’ve come down with a springtime flu . . . something that is quite rare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun to write.  
> Stay Safe, Everyone, and Hang in There~  
> ~Lover

**Name: Torvi**

**Other-worldly Ability: Asgardian Sorceress (Apprentice)**

**Babysitters: Thor & Loki**

It started out with a simple sneeze. A very loud, squeaky sneeze.

That in itself wouldn’t have been necessarily strange, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re an Asgardian.

You felt your face heat up with embarrassment as everyone froze, turning to stare at you. “What?” you shrugged, playing it off.

“Lady Torvi,” Thor said slowly. “Are you alright?” You blinked, frowning at him. “It was just a sneeze. Must’ve been a piece of dust, or . . . something.”

Tony frowned, glancing at Thor and Loki, both of whom were wearing serious expressions of disbelief. “What’s the big deal?” he huffed, returning to fiddling with his phone. “It’s just a sneeze, everybody does it.”

“Asgardians, however,” Loki said, eyes narrowing on you. “For the most part, do not sneeze, nor suffer allergies.”

“Our physiology is quite different from that of a mortal,” Thor continued, shrugging his shoulders. “Despite our similarities. Getting sick is quite rare for us and is not something to take lightly.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. “Of course, we’re from the realm eternal, it’s unlikely that I’m coming dow _AAHHHCHOOO_!” you squeaked, unable to contain another sneeze.

“Whoa, Torvi, you sure you don’t get sick?” Steve asked, reaching over and snagging a tissue to hand you. “Because it sounds like you might be coming down with something.”

You took it gratefully, wiping your nose clean with a sniffle. “I’m perfectly fine,” you grumped, crossing your arms and pouting. Natasha frowned, setting her book down and laying her wrist across your forehead gently. “Do you normally run a little warm?” she asked, glancing at Thor and Loki for confirmation.

You frowned a little, cocking your head. “Um, I know Loki’s always run on the cooler side because of his Jotunn heritage, but I don’t think so . . .?” you trailed off questioningly, glancing at your friends and princes.

Thor and Loki stiffened, looking between each other. “GET HER TO THE MEDICINAL ROOMS!” Thor shouted, knocking the stool he was seated on aside as he lunged to his feet. “Wha—” you didn’t get a chance to finish whatever you were going to say when Loki scooped you up to cradle you in his arms and teleported you down to the Medical Facilities of the compound, setting you with the utmost care onto one of the beds.

“Do you feel alright, my Little Sweetling?” Loki asked quickly, scanning your face carefully for any signs or indications that you were not well. If you weren’t annoyed, you would have smiled at his personal nickname for you. As it was, he was beginning to smother you, and it was getting old pretty fast. You shoved his hands out of your personal space, groaning. “Loki, I feel perfectly fine!” you complained. “It was just a sneeze, nothing to-to wor _AAAHHHCHOOO!”_

Loki flinched as you sneezed all over his arm, and he carefully wiped it clean with a grimace. “Except for the fact that you shouldn’t be able to get sick,” he reminded you.

“Um . . . what’s going on?” Bruce asked, frowning as he watched the spectacle before him from behind his desk. “Something wrong with Torvi?” You opened your mouth to play it off, but Loki cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“It appears what should have been impossible has become possible,” Loki stated gravely. “It appears that Little Torvi has become infected with some sort of illness.”

Bruce frowned. “A sneeze?” he asked skeptically, taking off his glasses to clean them. Loki glared at him contemptuously. “Asgardians do not get sick, or at least, if they do, it could be life-threatening. Their immune systems are far superior to that of you pathetic mortals—”

“Loki!” you snapped, crossing your arms and glaring at him. “Be nice,” you hissed, feeling your face flush with irritation. “Stop being rude to Dr. Banner!” You turned to the doctor, whom blinked in surprise at your harsh tone with one of your closest friends. “I apologize on behalf of my friend; he’s overly concerned over nothing more than a few sneezes. I’m sure it’s just dust.”

Bruce frowned, and came over with a thermometer, regardless of your huff of annoyance. “Well, just to be on the safe side, it wouldn’t hurt to take your temp,” he said distractedly, a crooked grin splitting his face when you kicked your little feet back and forth.

Suddenly, Thor burst through the doors, the others hot on his heels. You opened your mouth to berate the Crown Prince when Bruce stuck the thermometer into your mouth. You glared at him but kept the thermometer in when you caught Loki’s warning glance, arms crossed, and mouth set in a grim line.

Wanda came over to the bed, crouching down to search your gaze. “Your eyes are a bit glassy,” she observed, concern lacing her accented voice. “And your cheeks look flushed. Maybe you’ve caught the flu?” You furrowed your brows and allowed Bruce to pull the thermometer from your mouth. “But . . .” you trailed off, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. No, that couldn’t be right, you never get sick . . . right?

“Uh, Thor? Loki?” Bruce called, waving them over, mouth pursing shrewdly. “Is this a normal temperature for Asgardians to run?” Thor nearly tripped over his own feet trying to scramble over to Bruce, and the others made way for him to avoid being run over.

Thor’s frown, and the worried glance he shared with his brother made your eyes widen in fear. “Am . . . am I sick?” you managed to croak out around the lump in your throat. Your lower lip began to wobble, and tears began to form.

Loki rushed over to you and lifted you up into his arms, gently patting your back in a soothing manner. “Now, Sweetling, it will be alright,” he cooed gently. “I’m sure this is something simple, and not life-threatening—”

“Brother, SHE’S SICK!” Thor roared, and you flinched at his shout. “HOW CAN SHE BE SICK?! SHE COULD HAVE A DEADLY DISEASE, OR WORSE!” At this, you burst into tears, unable to control your childish instincts and keep your sobs at bay.

“Oh, Thor, look what you did!” Nat snapped, glaring daggers at the God of Thunder. Thor had the grace to look sheepish, scratching the back of his head. You buried your face in the crook of Loki’s neck, feeling hot and cranky. Fortunately for you, Loki’s body temperature felt nice against your fevered skin, and you burrowed your forehead into his skin. Loki didn’t seem to mind too much, and kept rubbing your back soothingly, keeping his voice low and steady to avoid upsetting you further.

“Thor, you overgrown idiot,” he growled, rocking you slowly as your sobs began to slow down into deep, shuddering breaths, which was beginning to get difficult as your nose grew rather stuffed up, and you were forced to breathe through your mouth. “It appears to be a simple Midgardian flu. While it is deeply concerning that Little Torvi managed to get sick in the first place, it is unlikely that she will . . .” he trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

“Okay, Torvi’s apparently got the flu,” Tony surmised. “Which means I’m staying as far away from her as possible.” He clapped his hands together once before giving the Gods of Asgard a brief tilt of his head. “Let me know when she’s not spewing from both ends, and I’ll reemerge from my lab. Until then, I’m self-quarantining. FRIDAY,” he called out, booking it for the exit and grabbing Peter’s arm on the way to shoo him out the door. “Call Happy and have him take Peter home.”

When Peter made to protest, he cut him off quickly. “If Torvi’s sick, you might get sick too, and I’m definitely not up to listening to your Aunt May yell at me if you come home with a bug.” With a roll of his eyes, Peter sighed, and nodded his head. “Feel better, Tor,” he called as he ducked out the door. “While you’re at it,” Tony continued to the AI. “Have the cleaning crew sanitize the compound, especially everywhere the resident baby’s been in the last 24 hours.”

Vision spoke up, glancing at you in concern. “Who will be looking after Miss Torvi for the duration of her illness?” he questioned. Pietro raised his hand. “I can help—”

“No!” Loki snarled, holding you closer to his chest as you whimpered in discomfort. “She is an Asgardian and must be cared for by those familiar with her. You do not know her as Thor, and I do.” Thor clapped a hand over his brother’s shoulder. “What he means,” he soothed. “Is that we have known Torvi since she was just a babe. Her father was a member of the War Council, and her mother worked quite closely with our mother with charity work across the Realms.”

“Right,” Bucky said, snapping his fingers. “Loki was her instructor on that mumbo-jumbo stuff you do back on your planet, before . . .” he trailed off, but Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Before my fall from grace, yes,” he hissed. “She is very nearly like my own child to begin with, and I will not trust her health and safety at this time in the hands of another.”

Steve, bless him, decided to deescalate the situation and he cleared his throat, stepping forward to raise a soothing hand. “So, I may not know much about Asgardians, but I was pretty sickly as a kid,” he offered. “It might be best to try and get her to take a nap, or at least resting. Probably get her on a soft food diet, like soup or broth with a little bread, if she can keep it down.”

“Laura gives our kids chicken soup,” Clint piped up, thinking hard. Nat nodded. “Make sure she gets plenty of fluids, and keep a bucket or something handy, just in case,” she added. “For now, get Torvi in some comfy PJ’s and take her to her room for a nap.”

Loki shifted you in his arms and noted your slightly green complexion. “What did Stark say about ‘spewing from both ends?’ Is that to be expected?” he asked skeptically, handing you to Thor when he offered to take you. “Don’t fret, Lady Torvi, we will look after you!” Thor said jovially, bouncing you in his arms.

Wanda’s eyes widened, but it was too late. “Oh, that’s not a good—”

“BLUUUGGGGGHHHHH!”

Thor’s casual clothing he wore on Midgard in-between missions was suddenly covered with this morning’s pancakes, eggs, and orange juice. The whole room was silent, for all of three seconds before Pietro’s, Bucky’s, and Loki’s laughter filled the air, along with the stench of half-digested food.

You promptly burst into tears once more, feeling absolute mortification wash over you. “I-I’m sorry!” you hiccuped through your tears, only to continue to puke. Thor quickly held you at arm’s length, grimacing. “There is nothing to apologize for,” he soothed, trying to keep from purging his stomach as well. Dimly, you could hear Wanda telling off her twin, as Steve smacked the back of Bucky’s head.

Loki cleared his throat. “I apologize for laughing, Little Sweetling,” Loki spoke, a hint of mirth in his voice. “It was quite amusing from this perspective.” When you’d finally managed to stop puking, Loki allowed his Seidr to wash over you and Thor both, cleaning you both of all traces of your breakfast. “There now, let’s get you upstairs and into a warm bath, perhaps that will soothe your poor little tummy, hmm?” he offered.

You nodded miserably, wiping your snotty nose on your sleeve. “Alright,” you croaked out. You took a sip of water from the glass Bruce held out to you. “It’s really important you drink lots of water now,” he reaffirmed. He gently brushed a hand over the wispy curls on your head, giving you a soft smile. “It might be best if you tried to sweat this out, though if you get too overheated, go ahead and turn down the temperature for a little bit if you need to, but not for too long, okay?”

You nodded your head once more, just wanting nothing more than to hide under your blankets and away from everyone. You raised your arms for Loki, making little ‘grabby’ motions with your hands. Loki obliged, holding you close as you rested your head against his chest, fingers clutching at his crisp suit. “Let’s get you sorted out, Little Torvi,” he said gently, motioning for Thor to follow him.

You closed your eyes as you listened to the rest of the team call out their wishes for you to return to normal health with one ear, and the other listening to the soothing heartbeat beneath your head. Within moments, you drifted off into a slightly fitful sleep, grateful once more for the cool temperature of Loki’s body against your tiny, overheated form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye out for Part Two~  
> Requests are Open~  
> PG to PG-13, Please!


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